


Facets

by Astoryscribbler



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Elves, Erotica, F/M, Fantasy, Romance, Royalty, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:46:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29433345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astoryscribbler/pseuds/Astoryscribbler
Summary: The Queen of the Elves has died and returned to the mountain. The rest of the Court moves on, falling into the old routines, but the King silently struggles until his human maid provides comfort where no one else does.(This is the first time I've ever written anything primarily romantic, and the first time I've ever written something erotic.)
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 1





	Facets

It had been two weeks since the Queen had passed away. The Court mourned the loss of her beauty and strength, speaking of the kingdom being darker now that her light had gone. They had gone all out for the funeral, the throne room that was normally in natural rainbow hues was decked in white silk from floor to ceiling. And there she lay in stasis, her silver hair still soft, not a strand out of place. Resting as the perfect icon of beauty for the Court to sigh over, before she was returned to the mountain. So that the cycle could begin again.

After the ceremony the Court continued with their dances and games. They turned once more to the future of the kingdom, sneering at the human clans sniffing at their borders. All except the King. He sat in his throne, from dusk until dawn. Not a crease on his brow or around his eyes. It wasn’t until the last of them left that he moved, steps echoing in the now dark cavern. He walked the empty corridors to return to their room - no, his room.

He stepped in, closing the door behind him, waiting for the small click of the latch before he let out a sigh. He scrubbed his knuckles against his eyes and looked up for the wine jug. His steely eyes met soft green ones, and the servant girl jumped back.

‘F-forgive me Your Grace!’ she said, her eyes trained on the floor.

The King growled and stepped towards the table, snatching up a goblet and the jug, ‘Leave. Now.’

She winced, stepping away and turning to the servant’s entrance, a hidden door in the back corner of the room. Her hand touched the wall, but she paused and glanced back. The King’s goblet was full, and he was drinking it like it was water. She sighed, telling herself to just leave. But something in her heart tugged her around to face him.

‘Your Grace-’

‘I told you to leave.’ he said.

She swallowed and stepped forward, ‘I know it’s not my place to say, but-’

The King’s eyes locked with hers and she flinched away, ‘No matter how many of you monkey men I see, I’m always surprised by your sheer stupidity.’

At that her face hardened, and her shoulders set, ‘You haven’t eaten in two weeks.’ She waited for his reaction, but it was like he hadn’t even heard her. ‘I’m always the one that brings your food and prepares your bath, so no one else has noticed. But we humans are smarter than we look. And you haven’t touched your food in weeks.’

The King blinked, and he moved forward silently. The goblet clanged on the table as he moved up, his elven height completely dwarfing her. ‘Your point, servant?’

She braced herself, meeting his eyes again. This time she refused to flinch, ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

The King staggered, clearly stunned. Grabbing the table for balance, he shook his head, trying to regain his composure. The servant rushed forward, tucking herself under his shoulder to help him. He looked down at her, at the worry creasing her brow. He snorted, covering his mouth to try and hold in the noise, but he only broke out in laughter. He hunched, leaning fully on the servant girl so he didn’t collapse to the floor.

The laughter eventually died down, and the girl guided him into a chair to rest in. There was still a chuckle on his lips as he got his breath back, looking at the servant properly again. The headscarf all servants wore had been knocked off slightly, showing a single dark curl falling on her face.

‘Are you alright?’ she asked, grabbing the goblet and wine again for him.

He sniggered again, shaking his head, ‘I don’t understand.’ The girl frowned at him, clearly confused. ‘You’re apologising for the Queen’s death, as if you had any hand in it. I can’t work out why,’ he said.

The girl shrugged, ‘Well, it’s just what you say isn’t it? You’ve lost someone important to you and I feel bad about that.’

‘You make it sound like she’s never coming back,’ he said. There was a flicker in his eyes, but his voice never faltered, ‘We don’t die forever. Our spirits return, bringing colour back into the kingdom.’

The girl bit her lip again, watching the King’s reaction, ‘But she’ll be a different person right? Everything about her will be new, even her face. The elves haven’t lost anyone, but you’ve lost your Queen.’

The King turned away, grabbing the goblet and dragging it closer. ‘What would a human know about it?’

She shuffled forward and crouched in front of him, trying not to overstep anymore boundaries. ‘We see death a lot. We grow up with it. And we know what grief looks like.

The King glanced down at her for a moment, then sniffed and straightened in his seat. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever met a human as insolent as you. And I’ve had more than my share of dealing with your kind,’ he said as he grabbed his cup.

The girl said nothing, quickly standing up and moving the dinner tray closer towards the King, before curtseying and walking to the door. She refused to meet his eyes, but for a moment he saw a fury flicker across her brow. Her shoulders were set in a very familiar way, her feet far too light against the stone floor.

The King smiled slightly as he said, ‘How many of my soldiers have you faced in battle?’ The girl froze, refusing to look back. He pulled the platter the rest of the way and picked off a slice of bread. ‘No need to be so surprised, it’s obvious you’re new to your expected responsibilities and etiquette. A human should not be seen or heard, after all,’ he grinned.

‘Well, next time I’ll let you drink yourself into a stupor then,’ she turned around, eyes flashing dangerously, ‘Your Grace.’

‘You underestimate my fortitude,’ he said. ‘But you haven’t answered my question. Since you’ve overstepped all your possible boundaries I may as well get something out of it. I don’t even know your name after all.’

Her eyes narrowed, ‘It’s Nora. And there are other things in the big bad world to hunt besides elves. Big creatures to turn into dinner and clothes.’

‘And you wonder why we think you barbarians,’ he chuckled, slowly eating the bread. ‘What’s the biggest thing you’ve ever hunted then?’

Nora frowned, trying to work out what the King’s plan was. But he simply flicked his finger, causing a stool to materialise in front of him. ‘Sit, and tell me your tale. Your King commands it,’ he said, raising his cup to his lips.

She sighed and perched on the chair, watching him carefully. But his face was a mask, and she slowly began her tale. 

*****************

A week passed like this. During the day the King would sit on his throne, listen to his Court, watch the colours against the crystal. In the evening he would come to his chambers, where he had told Nora to wait, and there she would tell him more stories of the human world. About the different animals in the forest, how to hunt and trap, how to stalk through the trees so that you didn’t make a sound. She never touched on her people, he never had any other names or faces to link into the stories. Just the wilderness, dark and cruel, and a lone huntress claiming anything inside as her prize.

It was on the seventh night of these stories that he realised he had been eating the dinner she had brought him. Every night he had eaten more and more, until now half of the plate was empty. As he looked at it, he realised something.  
‘So what have you been doing with the food?’ he asked.

Nora looked up at him and shrugged, ‘Pig trough.’ His eyes widened and she snorted, ‘What? Where else was I going to hide it?’

‘You didn’t eat it?’

She shook her head, ‘The guards would notice. I’d slip up somewhere.’

‘Huh,’ he paused, ‘maybe I should give you more credit. You’re not entirely stupid.’

‘That almost sounded like a compliment Your Grace.’

‘Almost? I need to be careful, can’t be having anyone hearing of me finding virtues in the serving staff.’

She rolled her eyes and got up from her stool, brushing the creases out of her dress. ‘Well, it’s getting late, Your Grace.’

‘Hmm? Oh yes, I suppose it is.’ He watched her gather the tray together. After the first day, her uniform had always been pristine and in perfect place. But it didn’t suit her, and as he thought of that huntress in the woods, he wanted to know what she really looked like. So as she picked up the tray the King rose to her side, swiftly pulling away her headscarf. She yelped, jumping back as a mane of dark hair tumbled and down her back.

‘What...what are you doing?’

‘I couldn’t imagine you facing a wolf with it on.’

She scowled, ‘You have no idea what my hunting gear looks like.’

‘Then tell me.’

‘Please Your Grace. I need to be back at the dorms by curfew,’ she said.

‘Not when you’re with me,’ he smiled, putting the scarf on the table. ‘So, what does Nora the hunter look like?’

She looked back at the servant’s door, then at the King. ‘Well I’m not wearing a dress for one.’ She quickly described her dark leather armour, her favourite bow. As she did she gathered her hair to one shoulder, showing him a simple braid used to manage it.

The King stayed standing, watching her fingers weave her hair. It looked coarser than what he was used to, and he threaded a piece through his fingers as she worked. He was right, coarse, but thick. More inclined to make waves or curls than the constant straight silk the elves were blessed with.

This close, he noticed something dotted on her cheeks, ‘What are these?’ he asked, softly brushing a thumb across her cheekbone. She shivered, the skin he touched turning pink, then red. ‘Umm...freckles.’

He frowned and tried to meet her gaze, but she was staring at something a little past his shoulder. ‘What are freckles? And why is your face glowing?’

She swallowed and blinked quickly, ‘When I was a kid I was told they’re the sun’s kisses. And...humans blush when they’re embarrassed.’ At that she went a deeper shade and looked towards the table.

‘Do people not normally inspect freckles?’ he asked, stroking a finger across her cheek again. He couldn’t believe how warm she was to touch, and so soft as well.

‘Not this close, no.’ she said. Her voice trembled, a shiver racing down her back. This was too close for them to be. Much too close. But as he caught her chin with his finger and turned her to face him, he could see something else shining in her eyes. Hesitation, perhaps a little fear. And a little sparkle of excitement.

‘Well, I like them,’ he whispered.

She chuckled, ‘Careful, Your Grace. That almost sounded like a compliment.’

He smiled, ‘I won’t tell if you won’t.’ She blushed again, and the King brushed a hair off her face. Everywhere he touched, no matter how light it was, he felt another wave of warmth coming off Nora’s body. ‘So, where else has the sun kissed you?’

Nora met his eyes for a moment, her breath caught in her chest. She breathed out slowly, rolling up the sleeves of her dress to reveal arms dotted in freckles, beauty spots, and with a fair few scars from nicks and scratches. ‘There are some on my shoulders as well. But the dress is in the way.’

The King paused for a moment, his fingers tracing a path across her old wounds, then her freckles, like he was trying to find constellations. ‘Can I see them?’

‘Is that a command, Your Grace?’

His eyes met hers, and he smiled and shook his head. She fiddled with the hem of the dress for a moment, before she turned around and slowly pulled the smock over her head. His hand followed the cloth as it travelled up her back, tracing a line up her spine, marvelling at how much warmer she was under the clothes. Finally her head was clear and she tossed the dress away, gathering her hair again over one shoulder again. Both of his hands were on her shoulders as he stepped closer, his fingers tracing down her arms.

‘Stay here tonight,’ he said.

Nora looked over her shoulder, ‘Yes Your Grace.’ 

He spun her around, his eyes burning with desire. His arms wrapped around her waist as she reached up for his shoulders, pulling herself up to meet his lips. The first kiss was slow, a test. The last hurdle before they plummeted past the point of no return. And it was long, neither of them wanting to break away. Her lips burned him, but he only wanted more. Finally Nora paused, taking a heavy breath, their mouths an inch apart.

With ease, the King grabbed her hips and lifted her into the air. She gasped, giggling slightly as he seated her on the table, but his lips silenced her quickly. Now they were faster, urgent. She matched him, pulling him closer as his hands began to explore her body properly. Travelling up her spine to make her arch into him. Fingers grazing over her curves. He listened for the small moans that crept out of her mouth, the moments where her breath would hitch, learning her weak spots as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in tighter.

The King’s mouth broke away from hers, littering kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. As he did she pulled at his shirt, making him pause to get it off the rest of the way. She gasped at how cool he was against her burning skin, his chest perfectly sculpted, skin smooth against her eager hands as she traced down his waist and over his hips. Her hands coming to tease the front of his trousers.

He moaned, the slight touch making his head rest against her shoulder. ‘I can’t wait,’ he whispered. ‘I need you now.’

Nora nodded, not trusting her voice, and pulled at the ties for his trousers to let them fall away. He kicked them off, pulling her closer to the edge of the table. ‘Go slowly,’ she said. ‘At least at first.’

He smiled and kissed her again. He slowly pushed forward, groaning as Nora gasped in time. They paused, foreheads resting together. Steel grey eyes met forest green, and he saw her want more. He moved slowly and the reaction was instant, Nora pulling him closer. Her mouth kissed up and down his chest, legs anchored around his hips. He wanted to take his time with this, but the look in Nora’s eyes demanded something else. Soon they were rocking faster, Nora’s gasps turning into moans as the King held her tighter. Never wanting to let her go.

They cried out together at the King’s final thrusts rocked through their bodies. Nora panted, leaning against the King, her body glistening with beads of sweat. She held herself so close to him, her heat wrapping around him. The King picked her up, phasing to the bed for them both to collapse on the satin sheets. He was lying on his back, Nora sitting on his hips. She groaned at the movement, and the King chuckled as he eased himself out of her. She fell onto the bed, curling up against his side, and looked up at him with a dazed look, ‘Wow! That was…’ she shifted slightly, getting more comfortable. ‘I won’t get in trouble, will I?’

The King smiled and leaned over her, ‘I won’t tell if you won’t.’


End file.
